


in the back of a fifteen passenger van

by cinnamonstix



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hockey, M/M, Parties, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, got7 members are on the team too, same with the boyz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonstix/pseuds/cinnamonstix
Summary: Lifting the notepad back up, Changbin addressed the freshman again, “Many of you are probably assuming the big bad in the house is the captain; Chan,” Changbin flipped a page on the notepad, “But to be completely honest, in his simplest form, Chan’s basically just a giant ball of stress. Well, he can be a bit of a tight-ass and is usually wound up wayy too tight BUT he’s pretty chill if you stay out of his way and don’t cause any trouble.”Hyunjin reached over and flipped to the next page, “Then theres Woojin. He’s a big guy and looks kind of intimidating but trust me; the easiest guy to get on with ever. He’s secretly a giant softy and cares more about you're well being than your actual mom.”Changbin nodded emphatically, “The one you really gotta watch out for isn’t even a senior.”Hyunjin lowered his voice to a faux whisper, holding his hand out toward the notepad as Changbin flipped the page, “Lee Minho. Dudes not even a hockey player, but he’s by far the most intimidating person you’ll ever meet.”Alternatively: Tales from within the JYPU Men's Hockey Team.





	1. The Freshman Tour

**Author's Note:**

> so this is basically a college au/hockey au
> 
> mind you, i know very little about hockey. 
> 
> this will also be based off college in america as i am a college student in america so thats all i know about
> 
> everyone's basically the same age except hyunjin and jeongin who i aged up by a couple months  
> 

* * *

 

 **Chan**   


 

Chan lied cocooned in a fuzzy blanket whose origin and history lies best untold. He was experiencing his first merciful wink of sleep in over 51 hours and is having a perfectly nice dream.

 

I mean, well he _was_ having a perfectly nice dream.

 

Right now he couldn't exactly remember what it was that he was dreaming about, but he was pretty sure it had been a perfectly nice dream. That is until it was shattered by none other than the two devil’s reincarnates.

 

  
“And this—,” the obnoxiously loud voice boomed across the house quickly followed by a loud bang of the violently opened door, “is the best place on campus—if not on earth.”

 

Chan groaned as he curled further in on himself, covering the top of his head with the blanket he’d been shamelessly snuggled under prior to the disruption. Why did today of all days have to be the freshman tour and why, _why_ —had he given into Hyunjin and Changbin’s constant pleas to let them lead the tour this year.

 

  
“Through this doorway, you will be met by the faces of our brothers past and present. The men on this wall are our heroes and the soldiers that fought to keep our team competing in the NCAA championships the past 5 years in a row. You should all aspire to be like them one day—‘specially this handsome devil right here,” Chan could practically hear Hyunjin wink at the crowd of curious freshman as he pointed at the most recent team picture, zeroing in on himself in the lower righthand corner of the photo.

 

  
The annual freshman tour was supposed to be a simple greeting and introduction to the team for the incoming freshman that ended with a short and quick tour of the house. The last two year in a row it’d been run by BamBam and Yugyeom. This year, with the pair having seniority, the responsibility had been tossed around from member to member, none too keen on having to be burdened with the task.  

 

This is where Hyunjin and Changbin came into the picture.

 

  
Now theres a couple things you should know about Hyunjin and Changbin. The two are some of the best D-man JYPU’s hockey team has had in a while. They’ve been close since their childhood and the two are so in sync it can be kind of creepy at times.

 

They also tend to lose 90% of their self-control and overall sanity whenever they’re together. Now mind you, that can be beautiful on ice when necessary, but when it’s a quiet Sunday evening and there’s little to no stimuli to keep them busy? It can be disastrous.

 

  
“And now, we recognize that you all must be experiencing _major_ FOMO due to the vast expanse of awesome tales we’ve been throwing your way, but do not fret my young fishies, this here sacred wall will soon feature you too,” Changbin piped up throwing a reassuring smile and a casual arm around an unsuspecting freshman.

 

  
“If we all just do a quick 180—yep just turn arou—““no bud that's 90 degrees, just turn once more—yep we’re good””—this is the living room!”

 

  
“This wonderfully decorated and totally not tacky at all spacious room is the location for all of JYPU’s historic parties.” Hyunjin twirled around said room, arms widespread.

 

  
“I don’t know if any of you read the campus paper, but this very living room is the location of the legendary 2017 summer bash. You see that ping pong ball sized indent up there? Im Jaebum used this here ceiling as a fucking _bumper_ to score his winning shot against the then captain of our rivals, SMU.” Changbin stood directly under the small impression, his hands on his hips as he regarded the ceiling in reminiscence, “That dent represents everything we stand for and the fervor we put into our every game,”

 

  
“That and how fucking cheap our drywall is,“ Chan muttered, lowering the blanket from his face as he sat up on the couch.

 

  
At the sound of his voice, the two sophomores flinched, flailing about and in turn scaring the group of freshman as well, “OH MY FU- Jesus Chan! Give a guy a warning before you pop out of nowhere, what the fuck man!” Changbin held a hand to his heart as Hyunjin stood hunched over as if he’d just run a marathon.

 

  
Chan rolled his eyes, “I’ve been here the entire time, not my fault you airheads didn’t notice me,” he deadpans, stretching his limbs as he scrutinizes the group before him. Damn freshmen were getting younger and younger every year. The kids in front of him were practically babies.

 

  
Hyunjin pouts at him, “You’re cranky when you’ve just woken up, so we’re gonna ignore that insult,” directing his attention back toward the freshman, he held his hand out toward Chan, “This is our wonderful captain, Chan. You guy will get to know him better during the first meet on Thursday, I promise, he’s not usually this crabby. _Although_ , he is kind of a bitch when he gets worked up, but that's only if you piss him off,”

 

  
Chan forced a smile, hoping he looks somewhat welcoming, but the scared looks he received in response let him know he was likely failing, “Hi, welcome to the team, I’m sorry you got stuck in a tour with these losers, I promise the rest of the team isn’t nearly as bad.”

 

  
“Pssshh, we’re great, the fishes love us! Right fishy?” Changbin wrapped his arm around another unsuspecting freshman and the freckled boy simply shrugged looking to his wide-eyed friend for help.

 

  
“Yea, you guys are great!” The wide-eyed friend gave Hyunjin and Changbin two thumbs up and a big smile framed by two large teeth.

 

  
Another freshman with even larger eyes and braces muttered, “kiss ass,” and received a snicker from the two freshmen to his right.

 

  
Chan rolled his eyes, “Trust me, these two have like -10% authority on the team so you really don’t have to be nice to them. If they give you hell or any sort of problems just talk to me or any of the other normal people on this team.”

 

  
Hyunjin put his hands on his hips, “Okay now you’re just being mean. I recognize that we interrupted your precious nap time, so were going to move this tour along before you say anything else that you’ll regret later,”

 

  
Chan gave them a tight lipped smile and a dismissive wave as he fell back onto the couch, pulling the blanket back over his head.

 

  
“Now! Raise your hand here if you’ve ever tried Hunch Punch? Yea? Well it’s got _nothing_ on JYPunch! Follow us into the kitchen and we’ll teach you guys how to make it. Well not the specifics, only Bam and Gyeom now how to make that shit but we’ve developed a pretty good mock version,  _perfect_  for breakfast.”

_____________________________________________

 

**Minho**   


 

The fast approaching winter season meant the days were getting shorter and shorter, so despite the fact that it was only six, the sun had already begun to dip below the horizon by the time Minho made his way home. The chilly air bit at his cheeks and dried the sweat that still clung to his forehead from dance practice, making him regret opting for a light denim jacket instead of something heavier. 

 

He scrolled through his messages as he closed the front door of the house behind him. Minho was beyond exhausted and desperately needed a nap.  

 

He’d been in the studio since 9am repeating the same footwork for the beginning part of the bridge for what felt like the thousandth times but he just couldn’t seem to get the last part of the dance right. The year’s first showcase was quickly approaching and Minho had yet to even finish the choreography for the dance he was meant to have begun teaching a group of 11 freshman _three_ days ago.  

 

At some point, for some unknown, unfathomable, reason, Minho had opted to apply to become a peer dance instructor his junior year. To be fair, he never thought he’d actually get the position. It was highly competitive and his interview had gone horribly. He’d woken up late, missed the bus and made it to the interview site 13 minutes late. Not to mention he’d realized only after he’d walked out of the coordinators office that his shirt had been inside out. But, the pay was decent and it looked good on his resume so when he got a call back he was beyond thrilled.  

 

Now, not so much.

 

The kids were nice enough, they all paid attention and rarely gave him a hard time. They seemed to truly be interested in dancing and the majority of them were actual dance majors. They were also all fairly competent, none of them were beginners and they learned fast. Overall, they were excellent students.

 

He, on the other hand, was a horrible teacher who was _totally_ going to fail this course and then his GPA was going to plummet and he would never graduate and he’d never become a world famous choreographer and he’d end up living in his parents basement for the rest of his life butthat’s really the best case scenario because what if they kick him out, then he’d end up living on the street—

 

Minho had just been deciding whether it’d be warmer to sleep in a cardboard box or under a bridge when he was brought out of his panicked reverie by a sudden realization.

It was nearly seven in the evening and the house was dead silent.

 

_Weird_.

 

Minho wasn’t complaining; silence was nice and very much appreciated.

 

But also very odd and out of place when it came to this house.

 

Shrugging it off, Minho began contemplating whether or not he could still drop out of the program. It wasn’t too late to withdraw right? Mentally drafting his resignation email, he made his way up the stairs.

 

_Mmmm_ , Woojin must have lit one of the candles Kevin had brought home. The house smelled woodsy, kind of—Minho sniffed—it actually kind of smelled like something was burning.

 

He nearly fell down the stairs when loud chanting joined the progressively stronger smell of burning wood.

 

Racing down the stairs, Minho ran past the living room, only now noticing the sleeping form of Chan on the couch. Sighing angrily, Minho opted not to wake him up, _but damn it Chan,_ why did he always leave Minho to deal with whatever self-destructive idiotic thing the team was up to.

 

Already dialing 911, Minho followed the smell of fire and raced out towards the back of the house, pulling open the door and throwing himself against the porch fence. He frantically scanned the backyard for anyone dying.

 

Instead, Hyunjin and Changbin stood with their backs to Minho in front of a poorly constructed fire pit that they were carelessly feeding with an old jug of gasoline. A group of freshman stood in front of them. Their faces ranged from mildly disinterested to slightly frightened.

 

Changbin held a large notepad in his hands, “Okay! Now, rule number 3: respect you elders. This is vital. ’ _specially_ if you want to have any hope in getting room rights for next year. Now, I’m warning you, getting rights your freshman year is nearly impossible, yours truly,” Changbin waved his hand toward Hyunjin and himself, “only got that shit by basically becoming slaves to Mark and Jackson.” 

 

“We practically sold our bodies,” Hyunjin said with such conviction Minho almost chocked.

 

The group of freshmen collectively furrowed their eyebrow, whispering amongst themselves.

 

Changbin turned to look at Hyunjin, a look of disgust across the profile of his face, “Hyunjin, _no_. I don’t think you know what that means so we're just going to move on,” Lifting the notepad back up, Changbin addressed the freshman again, “ _Anyways_ , back to respecting your elders. Many of you are probably assuming the big bad in the house is the captain; Chan,” Changbin flipped a page on the notepad, revealing a giant crudely drawn person that Minho guessed was supposed to be Chan? “But to be completely honest, in his simplest form, Chan’s basically just a giant ball of stress. Mmm, well he _can_ be a bit of a tight-ass and is usually wound up _wayy_ too tight BUT he’s pretty chill if you stay out of his way and don’t cause any trouble.”

 

Hyunjin nodded reaching over and flipping to the next page, “Then theres Woojin. He’s a big guy and looks kind of intimidating but trust me; the easiest guy to get on with ever. He’s secretly a giant softy and cares more about you're well being than your actual mom. He’ll tell you to call him hyung the minute you meet him.”

 

“The other two seniors, Gyeom and Bam? Chillest dudes in the whole world. They could care less about shit like honorifics. Honestly just hit them up for a good time.”

 

Changbin flipped a page on the notepad again, “The one you really gotta watch out for isn’t even a senior.”

 

Hyunjin lowered his voice to a faux whisper, holding his hand out toward the notepad, “Lee Minho. Dudes not even a hockey player, but he’s by far the most intimidating person you’ll ever meet.”

 

One of the freshman raised his hand.

 

Changbin, pointing his chin toward the freshman, nodded, “Yes, squirrel, speak.”

 

The freshman looked slightly insulted, but ignored the nickname, “If he’s not on the hockey team, why do we have to be worried about him?”

 

“Lee Minho is the team manager. He makes sure everyone is doing what they're supposed to be doing and keeps the team running smoothly. He’s really good at his job.”

 

“And the reason he’s so good at his job is do in part with the fact that he’s one scary motherfucker.”

 

Hyunjin nodded his head enthusiastically, “Always address Minho with honorifics. Me and Changbin only got permission to call him hyung last week. To you fish, it’s Minho-ssi.”

 

Okay, Minho had heard enough, and _oh my god_ , did Hyunjin really just thrown the entire jug of gasoline into the pit?

 

Standing up straight, Minho cleared his throat loudly.

 

Hyunjin and Changbin were quick to turn around, raising their arms up against their forehead in mock salute, “Minho-ssi! At your command, sir!”

 

“Don’t call me that. What the hell do you guys think you’re doing?”

 

Hyunjin held an arm out toward the group gathered behind them, “Leading the freshman tour.”

 

“I can see that. Let me rephrase the question: why the hell did you guys feel the need to start a bonfire in the backyard without any supervision?”

 

“Wellll… technically, we did ask Chan,”

 

“Yeah, I mean he wasn’t exactly conscious, but we did ask him,”

 

Minho rolled his eyes, “Put that fire out before you burn down the entire neighborhood, the firefighters already know our address by heart, I don’t want them coming down this early in the year.” 

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Minho huffed, shaking his head and only making his way back into the house after Hyunjin and Changbin had begun to extinguish the fire.

 

Entering the house and closing the door behind him he could hear Hyunjin and Changbin immediately begin to chatter again, “See, scary right?”

_____________________________________________

 

 **Chan**   


 

Chan awoke to the air being knocked out of him as a heavyweight settled on his stomach.

 

Groaning, he blinked the sleep from his eyes and rubbed at his face.

 

  
He sat up slightly and found the culprit to be none other than Lee Minho who sat crossed legged on Chan’ stomach, a bowl of popcorn on his lap and the remote in one hand. Sitting up fully, Chan caused Minho to slide from his perch on Chan’ torso onto his lap and legs spread across the couch.

 

  
Letting out a loud yawn, Chan stretched his arms behind his head, “Shit, what time is it?” He asked rubbing at his face.

 

  
Minho gave a noncommittal shrug, eyes still glued to the television, “Probably like 9 or 10.”

 

  
Chan let out a defeated groan, his head falling onto Minho’s shoulder, “Are you serious? Fuck, I’m definitely not getting any sleep tonight.”

 

  
“Your fault for napping during the day,” Minho chided as he flipped through the channels, settling on some show where a young couple was being persuaded to either buy a cute brand new cottage or stick with their old house now that it has been poorly remodeled.

 

  
“S’not my fault,” Chan mumbled, the sound muffled by Minho’s shirt, “I had to work on my paper for music theory; being a senior is tough, okay?”

 

  
“Hmm, sounds like a _you_ problem. Why are you taking music theory anyways? Aren’t you a business major?”

 

  
Turning his head to the side, Chan looked up at Minho,“Yea, a business major minoring in music,”

 

  
“Dumbest decision you ever made” Minho chewed on his popcorn, eyes still glued to the screen, “Your future’s like practically set. Why even bother with the extra coursework?”

 

  
Chan let out an indignant huff, “Because I actually enjoy it? We have this conversation like every Tuesday, get off my lap I’m hungry,”

 

  
Minho huffed, shoving Chan’s head from it’s perch on his shoulder, “Well then get your fat head off my shoulder and your fat ass of the couch so I can enjoy my TV time in peace,”

 

  
Chan let himself be shoved off the couch and didn’t fight back as Minho kicked him to the floor. He sat there for couple minutes, still slightly sleep addled before lifting himself to his feet. Grumbling slightly under his breath, he smoothed out his rumpled shirt, and made his way out of the living room.

 

 

-

 

  
Chan had just pulled out two slices of bread and had been rummaging through the fridge for some lunch meat when heard his phone ringing.

 

“CHAN! YOU’RE DUMB PHONE IS RINGING, COME PICK IT UP OR I’M THROWING IT OUT THE WINDOW !” Minho hollers from the living room. 

 

Not wanting to test Minho’s patience, Chan rushed into the living area. He quickly snatched his phone from Minho’s ready poised hand and gave him a glare before answering the phone and putting it against his ear, “Yo.”

 

“Yo? You can’t answer the phone like that anymore Chan, you’re 21 now, not 12. You’re a grown man now,” The stern and and angry voice of his father caused Chan to immediately straighten up.

 

He held the phone more properly to his ear before responding, “I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t look at the caller ID before I picked up,”

 

Minho, who was still sat on the couch, cast a subtle glance towards Chan. Although his attention was still directed at the television, Chan could tell he was listening in from the way he’d lowered the volume of the T.V. a notch.

 

“What if I had been Mr. Kim? Chan I worked hard to get you that internship, you’re not gonna screw this up, are you?” The angry tirade of his father continued as Chan made his way back into the kitchen for some privacy. 

 

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have answered the phone that way.” Chan had dealt with enough of his fathers admonishments to know a short and simple apology was so much less painful and quicker than attempting to justify oneself.

 

Letting out a long sigh, his father continued, “How’s school going? Are you keeping up with your classes?” 

 

“Yes Dad.”

 

“That’s good. And hockey? You’ve been getting your body ready for the season?” 

 

“Yes, Dad.”

 

“Good, good. Anyways, your mother wanted me to call and make sure you’re coming to the charity gala Friday.”

 

Chan leaned against the kitchen counter as he scratched the back of his neck, “Uhhh, you know I don’t know if I _can_ go, I have a lot o—“ 

 

“Chan, you know how important this is to your mom. Please try to be a little selfless for once.”

 

Chan sighed, dropping his arm back to his side and closing his eyes, “Fine, fine, I’ll be there.”

 

“Good, do you want me to send the driver to pick you up?”

 

Chan rolled his eyes, “I have a car.”

 

“Chan,” His dad warned.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be there, I can drive myself.”

 

“Okay, remember to look presentable; a lot of important people will be there. I’ll see you, Friday,” With that his father hung up the phone.

 

Chan sighed turning around and gripping the edge of the sink as he bent down. God, Friday was going to be awful. A bunch of stuck up politicians. His father and mother would parade him around the room and show him off like some kind of show dog.  

 

“You okay?” Minho’s quiet voice came from where he was leaning against the kitchen doorway. 

 

Standing up straight, Chan nodded, “Yea I’m fine. Just my dad… He’s forcing me to go this dumb charity gala that’s basically just good publicity for my mom’s campaign and an excuse for him to kiss up to potential clients.” 

 

“Eating fancy food, wearing fancy clothes, and fake smiling a bit at a big fancy country club?” Minho contorted his face into a farcical expression, “Jesus, how are you going to survive that?”

 

Chan looked up towards the ceiling, rolling his neck, and let out a loud sigh, “I’m not looking for sympathy—If you didn’t want to hear my complaints, why’d you even ask?” 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Minho pushed himself off of the doorway, raising his hands, “I’m just joking. I know how hard your dad can be on you.” Walking toward Chan, Minho rubbed his shoulder in comfort, “You can’t make up an excuse to get out of it?” 

 

“Nah, trust me I tried. This dinner is like a major deal for my mom’s campaign. She needs to feed all those potential backers with the picture of a perfect family. They love that shit,” Chan explained turning toward Minho, “But I’ll live, like you said, it’s just fancy food, fancy people and a hell of a lot of small talk.”

 

Minho nodded, giving Chan a sympathetic smile. Patting his shoulder he opened his mouth to say something before he’s cut off by Hyunjin loudly entering the kitchen. He’s wearing workout clothes and Chan can’t tell whether his hair was damp from sweat or the light drizzles outside.

 

“Who died in here? Why’s the mood so somber?” Hyunjin asked, walking to the fridge, sticking his head into the freezer, and loudly sighing.

 

Mnho’s eye twitches and his face flushes in anger as he points a finger toward Hyunjin, “YOU! DID YOU LET THOSE STICKY FRESHMAN INTO MY ROOM DURING THE TOUR? MY SHIT WAS TOUCHED AND I KNOW I’M MISSING A PACK OF GUM! I SWEAR TO GOD HYUNJIN, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

 

Hyunjin removed his head from the fridge, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. He pursed his lips and looked up toward the ceiling, a finger against his chin as if he was thinking. He opened his mouth before closing it again, “I uhh… GOTTA RUN!” He rushed out of the kitchen, loudly clambering up the stairs two at a time. Minho was quick on his tail and shot up the stairs with the speed of a man ready to kill.  

 

Chan sighed loudly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first fic ever I hope you guys enjoyed ~
> 
> twitter - [stellatoos](Http://Www.Twitter.com/stellatoos)


	2. The First Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update took so long and isn't very long, winter break has been hectic. 
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter tho and i promise to try an update quicker for the next one ~
> 
> twitter - [oojinnie](Http://Www.Twitter.com/oojinnie)

* * *

 

Felix   


 

“This rink is awesome! Felix, look at me! Don’t I look awesome?” Jisung skates circles on the ice, arms widespread and a giant smile plastered to his face.

 

The arena was a massive 200 by 85 feet wide rink with large windows along the whole west wall that lit the arena up with pretty natural light. Large JYP pennants lined the walls, the deep cobalt and occasional accented silver adorning the room and rows of seats that lined the remaining walls of the arena.

 

Felix, who stood near the player's bench with the other freshmen, shrugged. He was watching the other side of the ice where the upperclassmen were fooling around, only a handful of them were actually warming up. 

 

His eyebrows furrowed, were they trying to do a pirouette? 

 

The freshman with braces cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “I think you look lame!”

 

Jisung immediately stopped his twirling, shooting a glare toward the kid. 

 

Stopping and gathering themselves at center ice, Changbin and Hyunjin turned toward the group of scattered freshman. The former stood with his hands on his hips, lips pursed and one eyebrow raised in an almost comical expression as he studied the group in front of him. The latter enthusiastically waved the freshman over, “Alright, listen up, fishes! Gather round!”

 

“Do we really have to listen to these guys?” Felix asked Jisung as the other freshman obediently made their way to center ice, “Didn’t Chan say that they didn’t actually have any real authority on the team?”

 

Jisung shrugged but skated towards the group anyways. 

Felix glanced back over at the other upperclassman. They were gathered around two tall guys as they attempted to lift a smaller dude, all their gear making the task much more complicated than it really had to be. Once they managed to get him onto their shoulders they began skating circles, the onlooking members cheering obnoxiously as if they’d just won the Stanley Cup. 

 

Sighing, Felix decided his best bet was to follow Jisung.

 

“Welcome to your first meet. This here beautiful piece of ice is Park Memorial Rink.” Hyunjin spoke first, gesturing toward the ice around them, “You guys already got a good look at this place during the freshman tour so you’re all probably more than well acquainted with this place, BUT,” Hyunjin raised his hands, pausing slightly for emphasis, “Today is your first ever time skating on the ice as an _official_ member of the team. Congratulations, by the way.”

 

Jisung clapped enthusiastically, smiling and bumping Felix with his elbow.

 

“Thanks, Squirrel, we appreciate the enthusiasm.” Changbin smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

 

Jisung’s smile fell, “I have a name you know. And it’s not Squirrel.” 

 

“Ahh, but Squirrely-ah, you should be thrilled! You’ve just received your very own hockey nickname!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

 

Changbin nodded sagely, “Every historically awesome hockey player’s got one.”

 

“It’s true,” Hyunjin confirmed. 

 

One of the other freshman, a tall guy with angry eyebrows and the last name Heo written on his jersey, gave them an unimpressed look, “What’s yours?”

 

Changbin and Hyunjin broke into matching cheshire smirks eyeing each other excitedly.

 

Hyunjin pointed to himself, “Gin and—” 

 

“Bitters.” Changbin finished pointing at himself.

 

Felix turned to look at Jisung, the two sharing a confused look. The reaction from the rest of the freshman seems to be equally as unenthusiastic, an awkward silence settling over them.

 

“I don’t get it,” The freshman with braces piped up.

 

“Gin and Bitters? Like the drink? You know Hyun- _gin_ and—well Changbin’s doesn’t make as much sense—but you know _bi_ tter, Chang- _bi_ n,” Hyunjin’s explanation proved fruitless as the freshman continued to look on with unimpressed expressions. 

 

“Aww, come on! Jackson was really proud of that when he came up with it!” Changbin whined.

 

Another beat of silence passed before Jisung broke it, “Well then if your guys’ is so clever, why’s mine gotta be so lame. Like Squirrel? Seriously?”

 

Changbin pursed his lips, giving Jisung a once-over, “Okay, fine, touché. We’ll work on it.”

 

Crossing his arms across his chest, Felix spoke up, skepticism obvious in his voice, “How much of a say do we have in these names?” 

 

“Tradition is us upperclassman get to make them for you guys and whatever sticks, sticks,” Changbin shrugged.

 

“And how exactly do you guys normally come up with these nicknames,” the freshman to Jisung’s right added.

 

“Depends. They're usually a play on your name but sometimes they're just nicknames.” Hyunjin explained, “Some are really boring, like our captain’s. Apparently the guys his freshman year thought BangChan was a cool enough name as is,”

 

Well that’s just great then, with Felix’s luck he’d end up with something embarrassing or weird. He made a mental note to not share his Korean name with any of the upperclassman, lest they try to make a pun or witty name from it.

 

Changbin used his chin to indicate toward the upperclassman, “The really tall guy over there, Yugyeom, goes by Yugs, which is just a shorter version of his name but it sounds kinda cool.”

 

“Some nicknames are also kind of random though. Like BamBam, the small guy the Yugs’ got on his shoulders right now, his is a childhood nickname. And then there’s Changmin and Chanhee, aka Q and New,” Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed, “Don’t even know where those come from, to be honest.”

 

“Then there are some that are a mix of both, take for example our team manager,” Changbin gestured toward the guy who stood leaning against the boards, chewing gum and scribbling on a clipboard.

 

Felix recognized him as the scary guy that had reprimanded the sophomores yesterday for making a bonfire. Minho, he recalled, was the team manager they were warned to be wary of. 

 

Like a group of ducklings, the freshman simultaneously turned to look at him, “What’s his nickname?” Jisung asked turning back to stare at Changbin expectantly. 

 

“Lee Know. Not only cause it rhymes but also cause he just _knows_ everything.” Minho, who was in the midst of blowing a bubble with his gum, looked up when he felt the dozen or so pairs of eyes on him. His eyes scanned the group quickly before settling on Changbin and Hyunjin. He let the bubble pop as he quirked an eyebrow, shooting them a questioning glare.

 

Changbin and Hyunjin began spazzing out, letting out hushed warnings and waving frantically at the freshman to turn back around, “Stopstopstop! Don’t look at him! He’s got eyes like all over his head!”

 

“He can like feel it when you look at him!”

 

Felix peered behind the spazzing sophomores as the two coaches and Chan emerged from the player bench. The captain had his helmet under one arm and scratched at the back of his neck as he spoke to coaches in a low voice. His brows were furrowed and he looked at them meekly as he pulled on his gloves. Coach Ok let out a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back and loudly exclaiming something that was muffled by the shouts coming from across the ice. Nodding, Coach Lee gave Chan a pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile.

 

Changbin and Hyunjin, as well as the rest of team, seemed to instinctually settle down when the three made their way onto the ice. Gathering into a cluster in front of the benches, the team faced Chan.

 

Jisung grabbed at Felix’s arm, “He looks a lot less scary when he’s more awake,” he whispered.

 

Felix turned to look at Chan. It was true, the captain looked a lot less intimidating standing under the bright fluorescent light of the ice rink. In fact, he looked slightly nervous, a light pink flush on his cheeks. 

 

Addressing the team, Chan gave them a sheepish smile, “Hey, guys, sorry for the late arrival. But uh anyways, welcome to the first practice of the year,” 

 

The hockey players let out a chorus of yells, pumping their fist in excitement. 

 

Chan seemed to brighten at their vivacity, breaking into a grin, “Glad to see that level of enthusiasm. Umm, well thanks by the way, to those of you that voted me captain last year. I’ll try my hardest not to disappoint. And to those that weren’t here last year, sorry you're stuck with me,” Looking toward the freshman group, Chan gave them a bashful smile, “The goal this year, as it is every year, is to give it our all. I don’t want to jinx anything but we’ve got an awesome team this year. I really think the frozen four are in the cards.”

 

“HELL YEAH, THEY ARE!” Someone belted, leading to an onslaught of whoops and hollers in agreement.

 

Chan laughed, letting the team settle down again before continuing, “So, uh yeah… I’m shit at speeches so let's just get on with it—GO JYP!” Pulling his helmet on, Chan clapped his gloved hands, “Now, just ‘cause it’s the first meet don’t think I’m gonna go easy on y’all,” Ignoring the chorus of groans that followed, Chan began skating toward the far left of the ice, “Let’s see how well you’ve kept in shape over the break. Everyone line up, we’ll start with suicides.”

 


	3. The Back to It Bash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, I did my best to update faster this time but the spring semester is starting up again so i might be slower on the updates from now on. ill try to stay on top of it tho.
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter~

* * *

**Chan**

 

Chan looked at himself in the mirror hanging by the stairs and adjusts his tie. He makes eye contact with Changbin’s grimacing reflection who stands behind him with his arms crossed, “I can’t believe you're missing the Back to It Bash, all for some stupid charity gala.”

 

From the window in front of him, Chan can see Yugyeom and BamBam making their way into the house, the old keg balanced in between the two. Yugyeom seemed to be yelling something while BamBam laughed his ass off, the two precariously traversing up the porch stairs. In the game room, Hyunjin and Juyeon struggled to set up the ping-pong table, carefully dancing around Hakneyon and Changmin who were fighting over who got DJ rights. A fruitless endeavor really when a drunken Yugyeom would likely take up residence behind the makeshift DJ booth shortly after 11 pm.

 

“I don’t really have a choice in the matter, Changbin,” Chan countered. He fixed his collar and turned to look at him, “How do I look?”

 

“Like a stuck up, rich, bitch.”

 

“Great!” Chan exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Pulling on his coat, he gestures to the upstairs, “Make sure everyone locked up their rooms, we don’t need a repeat of last year. Also, tell Gyeom and Bam to tone down the punch. Last year everyone was drunk after one cup. Mmm and make sure Kevin lays off the alcohol in general, that poor boy has got like zero tolerance,” Picking up his keys, Chan began to make his way toward the door, “Oh! And make sure Chanhee and Changmin don’t try to pull any crazy stunts again, I don’t want anyone hurt before the season’s even st—“

 

“Ok ok ok! I thought you had a gala to get to?” Changbin began pushing Chan out the door, “This bash is gonna be amazing and a fucking disaster all at once and you know it! You're just gonna be sorry you missed it. Now go! Kiss some old folk ass for me!” And with that Changbin gave Chan a final shove as he closed the front door on him. 

 

Chan grimaced.

 

Turning away from the door, he carefully navigated around the scattered party preparationsstrewn across the porch and the coolers of beer BamBam and Yugyeom had left behind. 

 

Chan got into his car, being careful not to dirty the stupidly expensive suit his mom had given him specially for the event. Pressing the keys to start the car, he momentarily paused to pull out his phone. Sending a quick text to Minho, he reminded him to at least attempt to keep the house intact, and then one to Hyunjin, reminding him he was on babysitting duty that night and to keep the fish in line. Leaning back against the headrest he stalled a couple moments longer, trying, but failing, for an excuse to get out of going to the gala before giving in, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the driveway.

 

_____________________________________________

   
**Jisung**

 

“Remember guys, be cool. We can’t let them know this is our first college party,” Jisung whispered as he walked alongside Jeongin and Felix. 

 

“Speak for yourself, this is definitely not my first college party,” Jeongin replied, an arrogant smirk on his face. 

 

Jisung shot him a glare, grabbing Felix arms and pulling him so they were walking slightly behind Jeongin. Leaning into him he whisper-shouted, “Why they hell did you invite him to tag along? You’re too friendly for your own good. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go to the common room alone.”

 

Felix shoved Jisung’s arm off, rolling his eyes, “Shut up Jisung, he’s part of the team and he’s nice,” Felix walked forward so he was back in step with Jeongin.

Jisung glared at their backs. Pouting, he stayed behind the pair out of pettiness.

 

By the time the trio arrived at the house, the party was in full swing. People were lounging along the porch banister, loudly laughing and drinking. Leading the group, Jeongin walked up to the front door, opening it and stepping inside.

 

Just as Jisung was closing the door behind them, Changbin was coming out of the kitchen with two six-packs in his arms, when he saw them enter, “Hey! Freshies, you made it!” 

 

Jeongin greeted Changbin, grabbing one of the packs from his arms, “Hey, you know there’s another party going on right down the street?”

 

Changbin grimaced, nodding, “Yeah, thats the fucking lax bros. They totally did that on purpose—they KNOW our annual Back to It Bash is the last Friday of every September,”Changbin shook his head, leading the group into the game room where a very heated game of ping pong was currently underway, “They probably thought they could out do us, get more people at their party, BUT EVERYONE KNOW THE BACK TO IT BASH IS WHERE IT AT RIGHT GUYS!?”

 

Loud whoops and hollers sounded in agreement. Changbin smiled wide, nodding. Grabbing three beers, he handed them out to the freshmen, “Here, drink this and go have fun. Oh and Chan told me to tell you guys to stay away from the punch.”

 

Jisung accepted the beer raising an eyebrow at the other two.

 

Once Changbin was out of site, Jeongin straightened, looking around, “Where the hell is the kitchen? I need something stronger.” 

 

Rolling his eyes, Jisung squinted at the younger boy, “We literally got a tour of this place two days ago, how did you already forget?” 

 

Ignoring Jisung’s comment, Jeongin grabbed Felix’s arm, leading him away from the room in search of the kitchen. 

 

Looking around the room skeptically, Jisung rushed to catch up with the other two. 

 

By the time he reached them, they’d managed to locate the kitchen, the center table filled with various concoctions. Jeongin was looking through his options intently, probably trying to figure out what would get him drunk the fastest.

 

“Where’s that JYPunch Changbin was talking about?” Jeongin scanned the kitchen, eyes brightening when he spotted a bowl on the counter. Grabbing some solo cups, he began filling them and offered one to Felix and Jisung. 

 

Jisung stared skeptically at the outstretched drink, “Didn’t Changbin say to stay away from the punch?”

 

Jeongin’s hand drops and he gives Jisung an exasperated look, “Chan said to stay away from the punch, Chan’s not here,” Raising an eyebrow, he offers the cup to Jisung again.

 

Jisung lets out a dramatic and disapproving sigh to let the other two know he doesn’t approve of these antics, but knocks back the cup when Jeongin finishes the countdown anyway.

 

 

_____________________________________________

**Minho**

 

 

Music was a heavy pulse in Minho’s ears, reverberating in his chest as sweat clung to the back of his neck and dripped down his exposed collarbones. He threw his head back as he moved his body in time to the music, sidled in between Minghao and Jihoon. Closing his eyes, he let his body sway to the beat and wrapped an arm around Jihoon’s neck as he pulled the younger boy closer with a laugh.

 

Minho leaned towards Minghao, yelling slightly to be heard over the music, “I’m gonna go get something to drink, I’ll be right back!” 

 

Minghao nodded, turning to relay the message to Jihoon.

 

Word seemed to have spread farther this year because the Back to It Bash was beyond packed, the makeshift dance floor in the living area overfilling. Pressing through the bodies, Minho made his way towards the kitchen. 

 

Yugyeom had taken over DJing earlier than usual that night, blasting some overplayed Flo Rida song. Minho swore he could hear his shrill drunken voice singing along from all the way in the kitchen as he rummaged through the fridge for a beer. Grimacing when he couldn’t find a decent brand, Minho sighed, opting for one of Chan’s leftover Bud Lights. Hey, at least it was better than the Natty Ice Yugyeom and Bam had stocked for the party.

 

Straightening, he noticed an annoyed Kevin coming towards him and a worried Chanhee trailing close behind.

 

Minho opened his bottle and took a sip, giving Kevin a concerned look, “Hey Kev, everything good?”

 

“No! There’s fucking SM hockey players here!” He furiously whispered looking around conspicuously, “They’re in the backyard and took over the keg.”

 

SM Hockey? You had to be fucking kidding.

 

Minho sighed, “Why the fuck are they here? How the hell did they even hear about this party?” 

 

“Well…”

 

Chanhee meekly spoke up, a hand on the back of his neck.

 

“Me and Changminnie wanted to spread the word about the party so we tweeted about it,” Chanhee explained, "I kinda forgot I had a mutual who goes to SM and they may or may not have retweeted the post and that may or may not have lead to an unusually large amount of SM students attending the party.”

 

That can’t be good.

 

Rubbing his face with his hand, Minho took a deep breath, “Well are they doing anything?”

 

Kevin momentarily leaned over the sink to look out the window, “I don’t think so, I can’t see all of them but I think they’re just drinking, one of them’s doing a keg stand, oh eww, I think one just threw u—”

 

Minho cut him off, turning to shut the fridge door as he spoke, “Okay. Well if they’re not causing trouble, just leave them be. They probably just want attention anyway.”

 

Kevin nodded, looking away from the window. 

 

Turning back around quickly, Minho directed a finger at the two, “DON’T tell Yugyeom or Younghoon. They’ll just start unnecessary shit,” he warned, “I’ll keep an eye on them, don’t worry about it.”`

 

Kevin and Chanhee hesitated, but, after some insistence, they wandered out of the kitchen and back into the party. Once they were gone, Minho leaned against the kitchen sink, peeking out the opened window to spy on the rival team.

 

Almost every year, SM and JYP would have to face off at one of the championship games or another, and every game would result in at least two full on brawls. Despite their shared state, the two teams were known for their horrible sportsmanship when playing against each other. The rivalry was dumb and old as hell, brought on from the 1987 meeting in the NCAA title game, from which JYP walked victorious. Every time it looked like the strife was nearing its end, a misplaced chirp or unwarranted check would revive it.  

 

Hockey was full of big egos, but the biggest definitely belonged to SMU. The team was always all talk and no tricks. Minho couldn’t say he completely understood the feud, but every time JYP played against them, an unwarranted chirp or aggressive penalty always sent Minho fuming. The players were all arrogant, conceited and self-absorbed. The minute they got bored, they’d start shit in order to pass the time.

 

Stepping out of the backdoor and onto the porch, Minho side stepped the couple making out on the porch swing. Glancing to his right, he spotted the familiar face of the snobby center, leaning against the porch, looking effortlessly handsome and like he owned the place. He was smirking, eyeing a group of girls who were shamelessly gawking at him and his friend as they chatted, the taller guy laughing loudly at whatever the center had just said. 

 

Near the keg, Minho spotted another group of familiar players. They were on either sides of a freshman, holding him upside down above the keg while they chanted loudly.

 

Minho glanced back across the porch. The tall guy was now flirting with a pretty blonde, his hand traveling up her leg.The blonde laughed, a hand coming up to her mouth as she leaned into his touch. Grimacing slightly, Minho looked away, his eyes falling back onto the center. The hockey player was still leaning against the porch, his beer against his lips as he regarded Minho, an eyebrow slightly raised. 

 

Quickly breaking eye contact, Minho turned and made his way down the porch stairs walking toward the keg.

 

Settling against the old wooden shack in the corner of the backyard, Minho leaned back, sipping his drink and monitoring the drunken rival team as they gave each other celebratory chest bumps.

 

God this was annoying. He was supposed to be taking advantage of tonight. It was probably going to be one of his last chances to let go and have fun before the year really began, instead he had to babysit a bunch of underclassmen. Not even his underclassmen.

 

Minho began to regret his attire as he rubbed at the goosebumps that began to travel up the skin exposed by his rolled up sleeves. The striped loose button up was cute and showed off just the right amount of collarbone but it did little to keep him warm.

 

“Hey,” Minho startled slightly when he felt someone’s shoulder press against his left side, a voice mere inches from his ear. Looking up slightly, he found himself far too close to the center from earlier than he was comfortable with.

 

Setting some distance between them, Minho turned towards the hockey player, “Hey?”

 

Recognition fell across the hockey player’s face as he looked more closely at Minho, “Holy shit I know you! You’re the guy that gave Lucas a real mouthful! Nearly ripped his ear off after he chirped your tiny defenseman, right?”

 

Minho rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well it was out of line and totally uncivil; the game hadn’t even started yet and we were off the ice,” Minho tilted his head coyly, as if in thought, “and if I remember correctly, that ‘tiny’ defenseman checked you into the boards at the 2 minute mark, costing SM the winning shot,” he smirked.

 

The center’s smile transformed into something slightly painful, but he acknowledged the memory, nodding his head, “So, I’m right, your the JYP team manager?”

 

Minho raised an eyebrow, turning away and shrugging, “And what if I am?”

 

He laughed, shaking his head, “Nothing, I mean we’re off the ice right? Let’s be civil,” the center gave Minho a charming smile, showing off his dimples, “I’m Jaehyun by the way.” He held out his hand.

 

Minho glanced down at the offered hand, looking back up at Jaehyun skeptically before taking it. “Minho,” he answered simply, turning back toward the keg once he dropped the hand.

 

Jaehyun let an awkward beat of silence pass before he leaned forward again slightly, bumping his right shoulder into Minho again, “So, Minho, what are you studying?”

 

Minho glanced at him slightly, shrugging, "You first."

 

Laughing, Jaehyun tilted his head slightly, "Okay. I’m on the med track. I, uh, want to be a doctor."

 

Minho’s eyes widened, lips pursing and nodding slightly.

 

“You looked surprised. Was that not the answer you were expecting?” 

 

Still watching the messy freshman daring each other to chug three cups of JYPunch, Minho shrugged,”I don’t even know you; I wasn’t expecting anything.”

 

Jaehyun stared at him curiously, leaning forward slightly to make eye contact, “Your turn.” 

 

Minho turned to face the other boy, “I’m a dance major,” he said simply.

 

Raking his eyes up and down Minho’s body shamelessly, Jaehyun smirked, “Well, you’ve definitely got the body of one.” 

 

Minho may have been slightly buzzed—okay maybe a little drunk—but definitely not belligerent like most of the party-goers, and definitely not drunk enough to let such a blatant flirt work.

 

Scoffing, Minho rolled his eyes and turned back toward the freshman.

 

A beat of silence later, “You know, I’m a really bad dancer.”

 

Damn, this boy seriously could not be quiet for longer than a second.

 

“You could probably show me some moves, you know?” Jaehyun leaned close, putting a hand on Minho’s hip.

 

Minho squinted at the rest of SM’s team, “Okay.” 

 

Jaehyun straightened, his hand on Minho’s hip stiffening, “Really?” 

 

“Yeah,” Minho turned toward the boy, “On one condition, you make sure the rest of your team behaves.”

 

Looking over at the keg, Jaehyun nodded, smirking, “Okay. Wait here for a sec.”

 

Stepping away, Jaehyun walked toward the rest of the team. Minho watched with his arms crossed as Jaehyun cupped his hands around his mouth, loudly yelling something. Minho was slightly impressed at how quick the group was to react, turning toward the other boy and reluctantly emptying their cups at his command. After he finished his speech, the other boys nodded and some made their way back inside.

 

Turning back to Minho, Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, “How was that?”

 

Minho shrugged, “I honestly didn’t except them to actually listen to you.”

 

“Well, I mean, I am their captain.” 

 

Minho’s eyebrows furrowed, “Wait what? What happened to the guy with the big eyes, Taeyang or whatever.”

 

“Taeyong graduated last year, I got voted captain after.” Jaehyun smirked looking smug.

 

Rolling his eyes, Minho sighed dramatically, “Okay, whatever lets go get this dancing out of the way.”

 

Sticking his hand out, Minho waited for Jaehyun to take his arm before he he began to make his way back into the house and toward the dance floor.

 

Looking around conspicuously, Minho roots out a spot near the back of the living area, away from the wandering eyes of the team. Squirming through the bodies, he keeps his grip on Jaehyun tight.

 

Settling for a spot in the corner of the living room, Minho turned to face Jaehyun and wrapped his arms around the boy’s neck. Leaving an appropriate amount of space between the them, he began to swaying to the beat, moving his hips side to side under Jaehyun’s heated gaze.

 

There’s something therapeutic about being so surrounded by so many people, a little claustrophobic and a little freeing and Minho loved that feeling. Beginning to feel the affects of the alcohol he’d drunk that night, he felt himself start to loose himself in the noise and lights. By the time the heavy bass became just an ear-pounding beat, Minho found himself focusing solely on the music and the body closest to him.

 

Turning in Jaehyun’s arms, Minho slung an around his neck and pressed his back to Jaehyun’s front, swaying slightly. The other boy used the crowded dance floor and surrounding drunken bodies as an excuse to push forward slightly, tightening his grip on Minho’s hips and pulling him flush against his front. Minho let of an involuntary gasp, grinding into Jaehyun while Jaehyun buried his face into the crook of Minho’s neck. 

 

Jaehyun’s thumbs rested on the sliver of skin above Minho’s waistband, pressing into the divots of his hip bones and rubbing circles into the flesh. Minho threw his head back slightly, pressing back more firmly and reveling in the shaky breath that escaped Jaehyun.

“Why don’t we get out of here? Head to my apartment?” The proposition was a warm breath against Minho’s ear.

 

No. Minho, this was definitely not the time for a random hook-up, and an SM hockey player was definitely not the right person for a random hook-up. 

 

Turning slightly in Jaehyun’s arms, Minho made the mistake of looking up at the Jaehyun’s face, his eyelids heavy and a wide grin on his face, his dimples deep on his cheeks. 

 

And damn it if Minho wasn’t a sucker for dimples.

 

Fuck it.

 

“I’ve got a better idea,” Minho looked back at the other boy coyly, raising an eyebrow he made his way through the crowd and toward the stairs.

 

_____________________________________________

  
**Felix**

 

At some point during the night, Felix had managed to lose both Jisung and Jeongin. He sat on a the random couch against a wall watching people pass by. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he sent another text to the group chat.

 

11:38 pm

Felix

Yo where did you guys go 

11:52 pm

Felix

Guys wtf? 

12:13 pm

Felix

Where the hell are you guys????

 

Sighing, Felix pocketed his phone and stared down at his nearly empty cup. Deciding that that was a good excuse as any to get away from the people making out to his right, Felix stood and made his way into the game room where he remembered Changbin had set up a cooler of beer. A crowd had gathered around the ping pong table, intently watching whoever was playing.

 

Felix shoved his way through the crowd, grabbing himself a drink. Opening the can of whatever cheap beer he’d managed to find, Felix turned to watch the game. 

 

Eye widening and eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, Felix nearly did a spit take as he watched Jisung knock back a red cup, the crowd letting out amused hollers. He had a pair of sunglasses on his head, his hair sticking up in all directions and his shirt slightly soaked with who knew what. Once he finished the cup, he let out a loud bellow, psyching out his opponent and causing them to miss their shot. Picking up another ping pong ball, Jisung turned to the girl standing to his right, letting her kiss it before his stood on his toes and aimed, landing the ball right in the cup on the far right of his opponent’s side. The crowd let out a chorus of cheers as Jisung jumped up and down, two fists in the air.

 

Felix sighed.

 

Jisung had abandoned him to go play beer pong with a bunch of strangers.

 

Felix would remember this next time Jisung forgot to do an assignment.

 

Rolling his eyes, Felix made his way back through the crowd and pushed his way back into the hallway.

 

Why the hell was this party so crowded, this had to be a safety hazard.

 

Felix was just trying to get out of the doorway when he felt a firm mass bumping into his back causing him to stumble forward. He watched, the world moving in slow motion, as the drink in his hand splashed forward right onto some poor dude’s shirt.

 

Time speed back up and Felix rightened himself. He looked up at a displeased tall guy that he faintly remembers from practice. The guy pouted at his soaked through shirt, holding it away from his body. Felix began to apologize profusely.

 

The guy met his eyes, shaking his head “Its fin—“ he paused, head titling slightly, “Hey your one of the fish right? I’m Younghoon, one of the defenseman.” The other boy held out a hand.

 

Felix smiled, nodding, “I’m Felix.” He glanced behind himself, looking toward the culprit that had shoved him. Glancing down at the floor, he sees a body, slowly trying to stand. Felix watches as a girl rushed over, attempting to help the man on the floor. She gives Felix a quick slightly slurred apology. 

 

Felix shook his head, “It’s oka—” 

 

“Yo what the fuck. Junhoe, you piece of shit is that you?” Felix eyes widened and he took a step back at the bitter tone. Looking back at Younghoon, the older boy was now looking down at the other man, recognition on his face.

 

The crumpled man, Junhoe, stood, sobering at the sound of Younghoon’s voice, “What did you fucking call me?” 

 

“You heard me. The hell are you doing here anyway? Did your dumbass mistake JYP for that shithole school you go to?” Younghoon lightly pushed Felix to the side crowding into the other man’s space.

 

Now at his full height, Felix looked up at Junhoe glowering expression, he stepped forward, shoving a finger in Younghoon’s chest, “Keep SM out of your fucking mouth.” 

 

“Or what? Your school’s so fucking shitty, you had to come all the way here for a good tim—“ Younghoon was cut off as Junhoe suddenly lunged forward. 

 

Felix watched in slight horror as Junhoe’s fist made contact with Younghoon’s jaw, a sickening thud ringing out. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed, I love reading feedback~
> 
> twitter - [oojinnie](Http://Www.Twitter.com/oojinnie)


	4. The Charity Gala

_____________________________________________

**Chan**

 

Chan pulled off the exit and into the driveway of the massive, sprawling country club. It was almost absurd in its grandeur. It’s immaculately lined brick entrance sat at the edge of a lush, green lawn, bisected by an artful stone sidewalk that led straight up to the wide front steps.

 

The front facade of the building was held up by tall white pillars, large double windows lining the first and second floor. A balcony jutted out of the front filled with guests dressed in fancy cocktail dresses and expensive suits milling around and talking.

 

Pulling his car up to the front, Chan stepped out and handed his keys to the valet. He tried to school his expression to one of less disgust as he made his way up the front steps, fixing the cuffs of his suit jacket.

 

“Channie?! Is that you?” Chan internally groaned at the familiar voice and long arm that wrapped around his shoulders. The taller man pulled him close, squeezing his shoulder and letting out a loud deep laugh.

 

Chan gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Hey Chanyeol.”

 

“Where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen you at one of these things in a long time,” Chanyeol stopped in front of him, hands stuffed in his pocket. 

 

Chan raised an eyebrow, looking around at the venue and surrounding guests, “Yeah, I try to avoid these as much as I can.”

 

Chanyeol laughed again, nodding, “Tell me about it.” The woman to his right cleared her throat loudly, raising an eyebrow. Chanyeol’s eyes widened as he pulled her close, “Oh, Chan, this is my fiancé, Seulgi.”

 

Seulgi smiled kindly, shaking Chan’s hand. Chan recognized her from when he was younger, her father owned a law firm that specialized in malpractice. Chanyeol was the heir to his parent’s hospital. A match made in heaven, if Chan ever saw one.

 

“Well, it was good to see you bud, lets catch up more inside, yeah?” With a wave and some more nodding, Chanyeol and Seulgi made their way inside.

 

Letting out a sigh, Chan stuffed his hands into his pockets and made his way up the stairs as well. The inside of the club was even more extravagant. The marble floors were swirled white and grey, shiny and reflective as the guest walked in. High ceilings were supported by massive white columns that framed a fancy spiral staircase and a large intricate chandelier hung from the center, illuminating the lobby in a soft yellow glow. Chan made his way into the ballroom that was lined with tables. Smiling and nodding at the other guests, Chan tried to flag down one of the servers handing out champagne. When his attempts proved futile, he began to subtly make his way toward the bar. Something strong would do wonders to help him survive this event. 

 

“Chan! There you are!”

 

Chan closed his eyes, stopping dead in his tracks and breathing deeply.

Turning around, he watched as his mother maneuvered around the other guest, occasionally stopping to greet people but never pausing long enough for Chan to worm his way out of her eye line.

 

“You’re late,” She scolded in a hushed tone when she got near enough that no one else would hear, “You were supposed to show up early to help set up and welcome the donators.”

 

Chan nodded absent-mindly, looking over his mother’s shoulders and watching the catering staff restock the hors d’oeuvres, placing tiny toothpicks in the cucumber sandwiches and carefully lining up the foie gras canapé.

 

“—Chan? Chan! Are you even listening to me right now?” His mother snapped her fingers in front of his face.

 

Chan reached forward, placing his arms on his mother’s shoulder and bending down slightly to look her in the eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve left earlier, I didn’t think traffic would be as bad as it was.”

 

His mother looked at him, eyes narrowing, “Your dad wants you to meet some people. Chan, please promise to behave,”

 

Chan rolled his eyes, “Have I ever not?”

 

His mother pursed her lips, glaring at him as she gave him a quick once over. Reaching up she tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear before leading Chan toward his father who was chatting amiably with a couple, patting the arm of the man as they laughed. As Chan and his mother neared, his father looked over at them and placed a hand at the small of his wife’s back.

 

“Honey, I see you’ve found Chan. You’ve met the Parks, right?” His father gave the couple an obnoxious smile as his mother shook their hands in greeting, “And this is my son, Chan.”

 

Chan smiled pleasantly and bowed to the couple.

 

Mr. Park was a middle-aged man, about his father age. He had slightly greying hair and kind eyes, “Nice to meet you Chan, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

Giving him a charming smile, Chan laughed, “All good things I hope?” Mr. Park chuckled nodding as he shook Chan’s hand.

 

“Chan’s studying and playing hockey at JYPU,” With a tight-lipped smile, Chan nodded his head as his father detailed him, “He’s actually the captain of the team this year.” 

 

Mr. Park raised his eyebrows, “Ahhh, I heard JYPU’s hockey team did really well last year.”

 

Chan bowed his head humbly, “Yes sir, we made it to the quarter finals.”

 

“Wow that’s very impressive. Our Minyoung is currently studying in the same state, she’s doing pre-law at Harvard,” Although the statement was directed at Chan, he knew it was really a discussion between the older adults present, a game of whose was better. Sighing and leaning away slightly, Chan faked a smile, letting them converse and nodding when appropriate. Looking around the venue again, Chan’s eyes fell on the bar, watching the bartender top the dozen glasses of champagne a caterer was holding. He stared wistfully, wishing his mother had at least let him grab a drink before pulling him into the conversation.

 

“Right, Chan? You’d definitely be interested,” His head snapped back toward the conversation at the mention of his name.

 

“Uhh,” Chan stared blankly at his father’s awaiting expression. 

 

“Mr. Park says he’s an acquaintance of Harvard’s dean of admissions. He’s offered to schedule a lunch and invite you.”

 

Chan mouth opened and he began to shake his head, “That wouldn’t be necessary, I’m actually planning on staying at JYPU and finish=“

 

“Nonsense! Mr. Park has graciously offered, the least you could do is accept,” His father gave him a pointed look.

 

Reluctantly Chan nodded, giving Mr. Park a tight lipped smile, “No yeah, that’d be great. Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

 

“Ah, it’s the least I could do.” 

 

Mr. Bang nods, “Harvard is one of Chan’s number one choices right now, he’s actually very seriously consider—”

 

“I don’t know about seriously considerin—”

 

“—considering Harvard for graduate school,” Chan let out a huff of air through his nose. He barely managed to wait the several minutes necessary before he could politely taking his leave without appearing rude. The minute he was able to depart from the conversation, he made a bee line for the bar.

 

 

—

 

 

 

It was nearing eleven and Chan was still at this awful event. The bar and the alcohol that drummed through his veins was really the only thing getting him through it. By having secluded himself to the bar, he’d been able to avoid conversation, only having to occasionally greet the other guests also seeking refugee at the bar. The beauty of those guests were that they were also trying to avoid unnecessary dialogue, so much of the conversations were short and ended before they even began. 

 

Taking out his phone, Chan sent a quick text to Yugyeom, asking how thing were holding up. The latter seemed to already be drunk, responding with three exclamation points and a dozen or so misspelled expletives. A text to both Minho and BamBam went unanswered. He sighed. He bet they were having fun. Damn, he really should have tried harder to come up with an excuse to not come. Instead he could be back home, getting shitfaced with the rest of team and letting loose for what surely would be one of the last stress-free weekends he’d have for the rest of the year. 

 

He was sipping his drink slowly, watching the other event goers, when his phone buzzed, a text from his mom on the screen asking him to go collect his father for her thank you speech. Chan reluctantly stood from the bar stool, praying to a merciful god to be struck dead before he’d have to follow through with the order.

 

Security let him know his father was outside, smoking a cigar, and Chan had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He exited the venue and stepped out into the slightly chilly air, spotting his father leaning against the porch banisters, a fat cigar between his fingers. He looked pathetic but Chan figured he imagined he looked regal. Chan stepped up behind him, clearing his throat loudly as a way of greeting. His father turned, raising an eyebrow to indicate how clearly disgruntled he was that Chan had the audacity to disturb his smoke. Chan internally scoffed, as if he’d had the choice, “Mom wants you inside, she’s giving her closing speech in a few.” 

 

His dad nodded, straightening and fixing his suit.

 

He’d just walked past him when Chan spoke up, turning to face his father’s back, “I’m not going to the dinner with the Harvard admissions officer,” 

 

His father stopped suddenly in his tracks. He turned slowly, an unamused and almost bored expression across his face, “And why’s that?” 

 

Chan stood straighter, meeting his father’s eyes defiantly, “I already told you I don’t plan on going to Harvard. I want to stay at JYPU and apply for the business school there.”

 

“And I already told you that you can’t. It’s stupid to throw away an opportunity to go to a better school all for what? To stay closer to your friends? To stick to what’s familiar? To pursue a dumb hobby? Chan you’re a grown man, those are excuses,”

 

“I’m doing the career youchose for me. I’ve never been anything but the perfect son. All I’m asking for is the opportunity to dictate even a sliver of my future.”

 

Chan’s father puts a hand up, effectively silencing Chan, “I don’t care. You don’t get that choice, not as long as you’re my son. I’m not letting you be a disappointment. I let you have your fun and pick your undergraduate school. If you want to stay my son, you’ll do as I say, this isn’t something you get to argue.”

 

Glaring at his father, Chan scoffed, “Sure, I get it, someone has to be the responsible one in this goddamn mess of a family.”

 

“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” His father warns.

 

Chan glanced away from his father, irritated, not only at his father and the conversation but even more so at himself for having even started such a pointless argument over something he had no chance of winning, “Whatever, tell mom I said congrats,” he muttered, walking past his father. 

 

His dad started, having just got comfortable after recognizing his upper hand, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

 

Chan collected his keys from the valet, stepping into his awaiting car, “It’s late, I’ve got homework.”

 

 

_____________________________________________

**Minho**

 

Minho shut the door, locking it again. Before he even got the chance to turn back around, Jaehyun’s hands were on his hips, flipping him around and pressing him against the door, his mouth on Minho’s. Minho made a surprised noise, but his body reacted immediately. His hands going up to fist in Jaehyun’s shirt as Jaehyun licked at his mouth, biting his lower lip when it opened and then licking desperately behind his teeth. Minho moaned quietly, tilting his head back for a better angle and pulling Jaehyun closer against him as the kiss deepened.

 

As Jaehyun’s hand trailed down his back and over the curve of his ass, Minho wrapped his hands around Jaehyun’s neck and Jaehyun lifted him easily off the ground, tossing Minho unceremoniously onto the rumpled sheets and crawling over him.

 

Jaehyun shifted away from Minho’s lips, lips smoothing over his chin, then down his neck, sharp teeth nipping at his Adam’s apple. Minho grabbed at Jaehyun’s biceps, arching of the bed slightly and moving his head to the side to give Jaehyun easier access to his neck.

 

He pulled away suddenly when he heard a loud thud. Sitting up slightly, Minho tilted his head, straining his ears, “Hey, did you hear that?” 

 

“Hear what?” Jaehyun panted, pupils blown wide and his bottom lip swollen and cherry red from kisses. He moved lower, trailing kisses down Minho’s chest and unbuttoning Minho’s shirt as he went. It was enough to momentarily distract Minho, until he heard another loud thud, this time followed by angered shouts. 

 

Minho lightly pushed Jaehyun off, standing up and re-buttoning his shirt as he leaned toward the door, trying to decipher the noise downstairs, “Did a fight break out down there?” He looked to Jaehyun who was leaning back against the bed his head tilted slightly as he shrugged. His disgruntled expression quickly changed into worry and he sat up as another loud thud rang out, this time followed by more angry shouting.

 

“Shit, that sounded like Junhoe,” Jaehyun stood up, quickly following Minho out of the room.

 

The shouting only grew louder as they began to make their way downstairs.

 

“Get your fucking hands off of me!”

 

“—This motherfucker thinks he can waltz into MY school crash MY party and then try to jump ME? Fuck that!” 

 

There was a large crowd gathered in a circle around the living room doorway. People were whispering amongst themselves, some were loudly chanting, egging on the fight.

 

“Yo, Junhoe, what the fuck is going on?” Jaehyun pushed through the crowd, walking with purpose toward the hockey player. Minho followed close behind, taking advantage of how effortlessly the crowd parted for the taller boy.

 

“Oi Jaehyun, you fuck, the hell are you doing here? If you’re gonna crash a fuckin’ party might as well stay closer to home base, yeah? Or at the fucking least keep a leash around your dumb fuck team,” Chan had a nasty snarl on his face as he held back a furious Younghoon. The defenseman was wiping his split lip as he shot daggers at the other guy also currently being restrained.

 

Jaehyun smirked at Chan, throwing two hands up as if surrendering, “Aww, c’mon Channie! We were just tryna have some fun. Where’s your sportsmanship?” 

 

Chan let out a bitter laugh, nodding, “Next time let's do this at your place, yeah? We’ll trash your home and jump your players instead.”

 

“Oh please! Like your guys so innocent, Junhoe’s the one with the bloody nose!” Jaehyun pointed towards the bleeding SM player.

 

Chan had to tighten his grip on Younghoon as the other boy leaned forward gesturing toward Junhoe, “That fucker threw the first punch!” 

 

“Cause your ass was spewing shit!” Junhoe made to step forward, a tall guy pulling him back with the help of a shorter boy.

“Oh fuck off! I was only saying the truth!”

 

The crowd parted again as a very drunk Yugyeom stepped into the circle, slowly taking in the scene, “Yo! The fuck is going ON?”

 

Chan must’ve sensed the beginning of another fight, because he stepped forward, gesturing to Changbin and Kevin to keep Younghoon back. He was still wearing the suit he’d left with, probably didn’t even get the chance to change before the fight broke out. Pointing toward Jaehyun with one hand, he used the other to gesture at Junhoe and the other players, “You know what, just get the rest of your team and get the fuck out before someone calls the cops.” 

 

Jaehyun had an angry grimace on his face, but made to gather his teammates, shouting commands.

 

Once Jaehyun, moved and the crowd began to disperse, Chan’s eyes landed on Minho. Throwing his hands up exasperatedly, Chan looked at him, “Where the hell were you? How the fuck did you not notice that fucking SM came to crash the party?”

 

Minho glared at him, scoffing, “Since when is it my responsibility to babysit this whole goddamn team. I thought I had everything under control,” He muttered. 

 

Chan sighed exasperatedly. Shaking his head, he looked around at the dejected state of the living area. Most of the party goers had left, panicked by the mention of the police. He motioned around, “Tell everyone to get out, lie that someone called the cops or something. I’m gonna go change.” He turned toward the stairs and made the trek up the steps, movement sluggish. 

 

Minho pouted, looking around at the room and feeling like he’d just been scolded.

 

 

_____________________________________________

**Jeongin**

 

Jeongin wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here. 

 

He was in middle of dimly lit, nearly dark, room in the basement, surrounded by a bunch of strangers. Jeongin was pretty sure Hyunjin was among the crowd of strangers; having had followed the taller boy down here after he’d lost both Felix and Jisung. He hadn’t been able to find any other familiar face in the sea of party goers so when he’d bumped into Hyunjin, he’d sort of latched on. 

 

Jeongin had followed the other down into the basement and had only just stepped inside when he’d been hit by the smell of smoke, warm, cloying and thick. It appeared the older boy had inadvertently lead him to the stoners den.

 

Unfortunately, after about the third hit from the pipe, all the faces in front of Jeongin began to kind of look the same. Hyunjin could be any of these people, really.

 

Jeongin’s drug induced high is shattered by the sound of the basement door loudly slamming open. A vaguely familiar voice, that Jeongin’s cloudy brain can’t quite remember the owner of, is shouting for everyone to get up and leave. At first no one really stirs until the loud voice mentions the cops and suddenly everyone is rushing (if their sluggish, half-assed movement can even be called that) out of the room, stashing packets of weed in their shoes and hiding joints in their jackets.

 

Jeongin stood slowly, attempting to make his way toward the door. He walked in what he thought was a straight line but, after what felt like 5 minutes later—which had actually only been more like 10 seconds—he found he’d barely moved. An arm wrapped around his side, holding him up. 

 

“Hyunjin, when Chan said to take care of the fish, I don’t think he meant get them high out of their minds,” it’s the loud voice again. 

 

Hyunjin shrugged, “He only had like three hits, I was monitoring him. I didn't think he’d get so fucked up.”

 

The loud voice leans into Jeongin, sniffing him, “Oh god he reeks of JYPunch. Kid’s too inexperienced to be mixing alcohol with weed. Why’d you take him down here? You’re a shit babysitter.”

 

Throwing his hands up, Hyunjin lifts his shoulders in defense.

 

The loud voice supported him all the way up the basement stairs, setting him down gently on the living room sofa next to another passed out boy. Looking at him with two arms on his hips, the loud voice addressed Jeongin, “Hey bud, how you feeling?”

 

Jeongin giggles, shrugging and looking up at the voice.

 

Hey! He recognized this guy, it was the team manager, Minho! He wasn’t that scary! He was kind of nice, helping Jeongin up the stairs. Changbin and Hyunjin must’ve been exaggerating when they told him all those stories.

 

Minho’s eyebrows furrowed, he sent a glare toward Hyunjin and then bent down in front of Jeongin, “Thanks, I guess.”

 

Oh shoot, Jeongin must’ve said that aloud.

 

“Yeah, you did, here drink this.”

 

Jeongin accepted the outstretched water bottle and drank it slowly.

 

A couple moments later, Changbin came in dragging a loudly sobbing Jisung by the arm and tossing him unceremoniously onto the couch. Following shortly behind, Woojin walked in carrying a manically laughing freshman that Jeongin vaguely remembers being called Hwall during practice.

 

“Jeongin! Oh my god, you won’t believe what happened! I LOST!” Jisung lets out another body-wracking sob, clinging onto Jeongin’s side. Snot dripped from his nose and, if Jeongin had been more sober, he’d have been disgusted by the way he wiped it against the sleeve of Jeongin’s shirt. 

 

The team captain, Chan walked in next. Having come from upstairs, he was wearing a white t-shirt and joggers.

 

Kind of a weird outfit for a party but, hey Jeongin wasn’t judging.

 

Chan stared down at his outfit, and then glared over at Jeongin, “Why is he talking about himself in third person?”

 

Minho shrugged, pointing toward Hyunjin with his chin, “He let him smoke after getting shitfaced off of punch.” 

 

Hyunjin sputtered, glaring at Minho accusingly.

 

The captain leaned over the couch and poked the body to the right of Jeongin, “Is Eric okay? He’s not passed out, is he?”

 

Kevin, suddenly sitting up from behind the couch (Jeongin’s drug-addled brain slowed his reaction rate and it took him a full ten seconds to register the older boy, jumping thirty seconds too late), shook his head, “Nah he’s napping. I don’t think he even got into the punch, he’s just tired.”

 

Jutting his bottom lip out in thought, Chan nodded, “Is that all of them? Where are other two fish?”

 

“Felix is fine, he’s upstairs helping Chanhee,” Changbin pipes up.

 

“Helping him with what?”

 

Woojin coughed awkwardly, “Changmin’s on the roof again. He dared one of the fish, Sunwoo, to see who could scale it faster and now they’re both too drunk and too scared to get down.”

 

Chan sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head and a hand on his forehead. Turning toward the upper-class men, he put his hands on his hips and Jeongin giggles.

 

He looked like a disappointed dad.

 

Hyunjin and Kevin snort (Changbin lets out a full on laugh) and Chan glared at Jeongin. 

 

Curling into himself, Jeongin looked back down at his water bottle. He must’ve said that out loud again.

 

Turning back toward the other guys, Chan shook his head, “I was gone for one party—not even, half. I come back and you’re full on brawling with SM hockey, Changmin and a fish are stuck on the roof, Bam spiked the punch way to much and no one stopped him, there’s puke all over the upstairs landing, roughly three bodies were passed out in the master bathroom which no one locked, the basement reeks—You seriously didn’t think to crack a window?” Chan glared at Hyunjin in disappointment, “—five out six of the fish are fucked up and there’s the remnants of what looks like a small fire in the backyard.” 

 

“Oh that wasn’t a small fire, we had that under control. The lacrosse team started a bonfire down the street and we wanted to show them who’s boss so we tried to make a bigger o—” Changbin cut himself off, scratching at his chin, “well now that i say it aloud it sounds kind of dumb.”

 

Chan closed his eyes and toak a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he glanced at Minho. The two seem to exchange a silent conversation, the latter’s eyes widening slightly. He shoot daggers at Chan, “You wouldn’t dare.”

 

Chan shrugged, maintaining eye contact defiantly.

 

“I think it’s time for another team character builder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated and super motivating ~
> 
> twitter - [oojinnie](Http://Www.Twitter.com/oojinnie)


	5. The Team Character Builder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update took literal ages. i had major writersblock with this chapter for some reason. i'm honestly still iffy on how it came out. i hope it's still enjoyable though.

 

** Jeongin **

 

 

Jeongin had startled at the chorus of groans the upper class-men had let out. The mention of a team character builder had sent them into a frenzy, Changbin and Hyunjin going as far as to kneel down in front of Chan, hands clasped and heads shaking rapidly as they begged for mercy. At the time, Jeongin had found the whole ordeal very over-dramatic. 

 

Jeongin was sure a group activity couldn’t be as horrendous as they’d all played it out to be.

 

_ Oh how wrong he’d been. _

 

“Minho, your blinker!” Chan cried, straining against his seatbelt to reach over Minho and turn on his left turn signal, “No! You have to look first! Your side mirrors! Use your side mirrors!”

 

“Stop yelling at me!” Minho shrieked as he choppily swerved into the left lane.

 

“We’re gonna die. We're gonna die. We’re gonna die,” Jisung had been muttering the three word mantra for the past half an hour at this point. 

 

“Shut up Jisung!” Felix groaned, “You’re making it worse!” Seated in the middle seat, he lacked any sort of solid object to keep grounded so he’d opted to shrink into himself, arms wrapped around knee’s drawn up to his chest. 

 

Chan sat up suddenly, relief edging into his voice as he pointed toward an exit sign, “It’s the next exit!”

 

Minho startled and he quickly pulled the car toward the closest exit, cutting off an angry red sedan that blared its horn.

 

“No! No! The next one!” Chan groaned, hands slapping his forehead in frustration.

 

“Then why’d you say this one!”

 

“I said the _next_ one!”

 

“Why’d you say anything, then! Why didn’t you wait ‘till we got to the right exit!”

 

“I was trying to give you a hea—stop! No! What are you doing! We’ll just get back on! Don’t slow down! Keep going straight!”

 

Jeongin was gonna be sick. 

 

He whimpered, pressing his forehead against the cool glass of the car window. 

 

Maybe their reaction had been warranted.

 

 

_____________________________________________

 

EARLIER THAT DAY

 

** Felix **

 

 

“It is way too fucking early to be up right now,” Hyunjin groaned as he threw himself against Felix’s side and let out a loud yawn.

 

Felix yawned back, scratching at his chin, “What exactly is a team character builder anyway?”

 

“A dumb group exercise that’s supposed to make the team get closer,” Changbin explained as he leaned to the right of Felix, “It’s usually ninety-percent torture and always leads to a giant argument and a ton of fights. It’s a stupid tradition and the torture varies from captain to captain. Our last captain once forced us all to enter a fishing competition.” 

 

At Felix’s furrowed brows, Hyunjin elaborated, “Yeah, we all lost. Jackson told us a story of a team builder his freshman year where they had to go sky diving. That sounds way more dope than this shitty trip.”

 

Chan shuffled past them, focused on loading the back of his car with various camping equipment. He was in the midst of stuffing a questionably old tent into the trunk when he turned to glare at their relaxed forms, “Hyunjin, Changbin, did you guys grab the coolers I asked you to get from the shack?”

 

The upperclassmen startled. Changbin opened his mouth and Hyunjin detangled himself from Felix. After a couple of “uh”s and some jumbled unintelligible excuses, both of them began to scramble toward the backyard.

 

“We’ve got them,” Woojin interjected. He walked out of the house carrying two old and worn red coolers stacked on top of each-other and Jeongin followed close behind, another cooler in his arms and a pair of sunglasses on his nose. He had a miserable expression on his face as he shuffled behind Woojin, arms falling limp when the older relieved him of the cooler, packing them into the back of another car. 

 

Jeongin shuffled over to where Felix was leaning, stopping in front of the car and pressing his forehead to the cool glass surface of the window. He let out a pitiful grumble as greeting and Felix patted the younger’s arm in comfort. 

 

Jeongin jumped slightly when the window he was leaned against began to roll down, a ebullient Jisung sitting in the back seat grinned at him, “‘Sup loser!”

 

Jeongin groaned, covering his ears and glaring at the other boy, “How the hell are you so cheery? You were fucked up last night.”

 

Jisung flashed him a wide grin, shrugging, “I drink a lot of water, I don’t really get hungover.”

 

Glaring at the other, Jeongin shook his head, “Of course you don’t.”

 

“You guys getting in?” Chan asked as he made his way towards the driver-side door of the car, eyeing Felix and Jeongin warily.

 

Felix and Jeongin quickly pushed off the car, staring at Chan awkwardly and glancing at each other.

 

“Yeah! If that’s okay with you?” Jisung piped up from the backseat.

 

Chan nodded, smiling awkwardly. His brows furrowed, hand stalling as he unlocked his car. “How are you already inside the locked car?” He asked, looking back toward Jisung.

 

Jisung shrugged and Chan’s questionings were cut short by an overly eager Minho who practically ran into Chan. The team manager ripped the key’s from Chans grasp and flashed him a wide smile, “I’m driving!”

 

Chan gaped, “What? No, you are not.Why would you drive?”

 

“Because you get major road rage on long car rides. I’m not putting these poor innocent fish through that for an hour long trip,” Minho motioned toward the freshman, pulling Jeongin into his side and patting his head. 

 

“Minho you can’t drive.”

 

Minho gasped dramatically, a hand held against his heart in offense, “I so can! I have my license.”

 

“Yeah. That you got when you were seventeen and you haven’t driven since.”

 

Waving his hand dismissively, Minho bodily shoved Chan away from the drivers side door and settled into the drivers seat, “Pssh, that doesn't matter! Driving’s like muscle memory or whatever. It’ll be fine.”

 

Chan gaped, turning toward the fish he looked expectantly, waiting for some sort of back up. When none came, he grumbled under his breath and walked around the front of the car, reluctantly getting into the passenger’s side. 

 

Jeongin turned toward Felix, eyebrow raised, “You think it’s too late to switch cars?”

 

“Come on fishies! Get in! We don’t have all day!”

 

Felix shrugged, getting into the car and Jeongin reluctantly followed suit. 

 

Jeongin closed the door to the car and watched as Minho put on a pair of sunglasses, moving the rear view mirror to check his reflection. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he clapped excitedly, “Okay! Let’s get this show on the road! Everyone seatbelts on!”

 

As the backseat obediently buckled up, Chan leaned forward and fixed the rear view mirror, “I don’t know how you think this’ll be any better or less dangerous than me driving. When’s the last time you’ve driven anywhere? You’re from the city, you ne—WOAH!” Chan gripped the dashboard as Minho made a quick switch from the gas to the brake, sending the car and all its passengers lurching forward.

 

 

“Shit. Sorry, I thought I was in reverse.”

 

Chan merely glared at Minho.

 

-

 

 

 

A grueling thirty minutes later (filled with far too many near-death experiences than any car ride should have), the car pulled into a gas station and Minho clumsily parked near the convenience store. As soon as he cut the engine, the passengers of the car all let out a collective breath of relief, their shoulder sagging in unison. Jisung was the first to move, releasing his grip on the grab handle and tumbling out of the car on wobbly legs, heading straight for the bathrooms. 

 

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks,” Minho said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and looked toward Chan, “Do you want anything?”

 

Chan, who had burrowed his head into his arms soon as the car had stopped, mumbled out a negative.

 

Minho turned to face the backseat, an eyebrow lifted in questioning.

 

Jeongin’s face was an unsightly color of pale green, his sunglasses lied on his lap and his hair stuck up in random directions. To his right Felix was thrown back across his seat, his head turned toward the roof of the car and his chest rising in rapid succession. They both shook their heads.

 

Minho shrugged, stepping out of the car, “Fine by me.”

 

Jeongin sat up suddenly, watching as Minho walked away from the car. Once the team manager had disappeared into the convenience store, he reached forward, unplugging Minho’s phone from its charging cord.

 

Felix looked up, “What are you doing?”

 

“Saving our lives,” Jeongin muttered, still looking down at the phone, “I’m just gonna turn on airplane mode, that way Minho stops fucking glancing at his phone and texting every ten sec—”

 

Jeongin’s brows furrowed as he read the most recent text message across Minho’s screen.

 

Felix leaned forward, snooping over his shoulder, “What?”

 

Jeongin tilted his hand toward him, showing the phone to Felix. 

 

Across the screen were several text messages from the contact name “Captain Jaehyun ;)”

 

 

>okay, deal 

 

>but dont act like you werent into it

 

>last night you were all ove—

 

 

Felix shoved the phone away from himself, eyes widening as he gaped at Jeongin.

 

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Chan grabbed Minho’s phone from Jeongin’s hands, “Don’t go through other people’s stuff, that’s very rude,” Momentarily glancing at the screen, he halted his speech and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes darted across the screen. Swallowing thickly, he closed the phone and placed it back in the middle console, “You can’t—don’t read other people’s text messages.” 

 

Jeongin leaned over the middle of the two seat tepidly, “Was that Jaehyun, as in the team captain of the SM hockey team, Jaehyun?’

 

Chan shrugged.

 

“Why would Minho be texting the SM team captain?”

 

Chan shrugged again.

 

“Isn’t that. like, against the rules. He’s fraternizing with the enemy!”

 

“Look!” Chan finally snapped, turning in his seat to glare at Jeongin, “I don’t know what he’s doing talking to Jaehyun, okay?” His sudden outburst caused the younger boy to immediately close his mouth and slink back into his seat.

 

After a couple of palpably awkward minutes of silence, Felix saw Minho and Jisung walking out of the gas station convenience store, each carrying two bags stuffed with treats. Jisung skipped over to the car, jumping in excitedly and holding the bags of goods over his head like a trophy.

 

“I’ve got four bags of Flaming Hot Cheetos and I’m not sharing any of them with you losers!” He sang, already ripping into the first bag. 

 

Minho situated himself back in the drivers seat and turned toward Chan, “I got you some Buggles and a blue flavored Powerade so you don’t get crabby, we still have half an hour drive left.” Minho tossed the other bag of snacks to Chan.

 

After the bag hit the lap of the captain and went unacknowledged, Minho raised a brow, “A thank you would be appreciated.”

 

Chan let out a muffled grunt in response. 

 

Minho furrowed his eyebrows. Letting out a huff of air, he put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, “Fine. Be a dick.”

 

 

_____________________________________________

 

TWO YEARS AGO, END OF SPRING SEMESTER

 

** Minho **

 

 

Looking up at the house, it was a grayish hue that sorta seemed like it was once maybe a pretty pale blue, but that was definitely no longer the case. The paint was peeling and the sliding looked grimy and not well taken care of. A large bedsheet hung from the front two windows with the words “THE LAX BROS CAN SUCK IT” spray painted onto it. The roof itself looked surprisingly battered, like it’d been through far more than any roof should ever go through. The porch was littered with various empty bottles of beer and a keg lay on its side precariously tipping over the edge of the stairs and threatening to topple down them at any given moment. What looked to be a slice of pizza clung to the gutter and Minho watched with morbid curiosity as a chubby squirrel and a large black bird fought over it. 

 

Minho glanced down at the piece of paper in his hands. 

 

The flyer had most definitely not been made with graphic design in mind, but it definitely did its job. Bright and bold letters read out “JYPU MEN’S HOCKEY TEAM IS IN NEED OF A NEW TEAM MANAGER” in smaller uncapitalized font, it read “no experience necessary, call (617)-555-4208 or email [jwang@jypu.edu](mailto:jwang892@jypu.edu) if you are interested”.

 

The flyer had been handed to him last Monday by a loud blonde kid who had eagerly begged him to “really consider it”. At first Minho had simply pocketed the paper and nearly forgotten about it. He likely wouldn’t have thought twice about the entire thing if it hadn’t been for the meeting he’d had that Wednesday with his academic advisor. 

 

Mr. Kim had called Minho’s resume “extremely dry” and had said that his “extracurriculars were very lacking”. 

 

While Minho admitted that he hadn’t really gone out much his freshman year, could you really blame him? College was hard. He’d barely been able to keep his head above water as it was. Getting into clubs and organizations had been the last thing on his mind. 

 

He’d sort of panicked when Mr. Kim had asked him if he had any plans to join anything and had made the mistake of mentioning the flyer. The advisor had thought it would be a great opportunity and had made Minho promise that he at least go through the interview process and see what it was like. 

 

Now here he stood, glaring through the sun at the dingy and mistreated house. Minho took a deep breath to steal his nerves before he made his way up the steps, sidestepping the fallen keg. He approached the front door and nearly tripped over the front welcome mat, a tattered orange thing that said “Hi! I’m Mat!” and seemed to be covered in various spills and unsightly stains. 

 

Minho grimaced. 

 

You know? Maybe this wasn’t the job for him. I mean hockey players? They were gross, loud and weirdly touchy. It’s not like Minho had exactly the best track record with jocks either.

 

Minho had just been about to turn away and leave the house when the door in front of him was suddenly and violently pulled open. The blonde boy that had handed him the flyer the week before stood in the doorway, a large black garbage bag in one hand. He faced towards the inside of the house as he shouted some rude and obscene remarks towards the inhabitants. Something about how much he hated clean up and how “it totally was not his turn”. 

 

The blonde startled when he turned and found himself face-to-face with Minho. 

 

“Oh! Hey there!” The two merely stared at each other in an awkward silence while Minho attempted to come up with some sort of half-assed excuse to leave when the blonde suddenly lit up, “You’re here for the interview aren’t you? Come on in!” Minho didn’t even get a chance to protest before he was being pulled into the house, “I’m Jackson by the way!”

 

 

-

 

A year and a half later and Minho was really beginning to regret this whole team manager gig. 

 

“Yeah, I got partnered up with one of the lacrosse freshman,” Hyunjin’s face contorted into a grimace, “Kim Seungjin or something.”

 

“Oh shit, grr-oOo-oss!” Kevin and Changbin sung, hands cupped around their mouths. 

 

“I know, right? I tried asking the professor to change my partner cause hockey and lacrosse just don’t mix, ya know? But she said unless it was a legitimate reason, she couldn’t do anything about it and totally brushed me off.”

 

Minho rolled his eyes at Hyunjin and the other’s ramblings as he began scrutinizing his new surroundings. Despite it practically being October, it was still moderately hot outside and Minho already felt a light film of sweat collecting along his forehead and on the back of his neck. He pulled at his shirt grimacing in discomfort. 

 

He hadn’t thought his proposition to drive had been that big a deal. I mean sure his driving was a bit rusty, and yes he may have ran a red light (or two), and okay he probably shouldn’t have cut off the big black SUV when merging onto the highway, and fine perhaps his texting had a bit of positive correlation with how much he swerved on the road (which was a lot), but overall he thought he’d done alright. It wasn’t like Chan to get angry over small things and never to the point of giving Minho the silent treatment. Why he had gotten so pissy about halfway into the car ride was beyond Minho.

 

The aforementioned captain had just hopped out of the driver’s seat and was already ordering various members to begin unpacking the cars. The fish tumbled out of the backseat behind him, a mess of flailing limbs and whiny complaints. 

 

Jisung took a step forward with his arms spread out like an eagle. He took in an obnoxiously deep breath, exhaling noisily and turned toward the other fish with a bright smile, “Gosh, don't you just love the great outdoors!”

 

Jeongin grimaced, “I think I’m gonna puke.”

 

Jisung leapt away in disgust, “Yeah, well some of us need to learn how to take care of our bodies. I recommend you drink more water next time and learn how to better handle your alcohol,” He patted Jeongin’s head demeaningly, leaping out of the way when the other swiped at him and running towards Younghoon and Woojin. Immediately, he made himself useful to avoid the younger’s wrath. 

 

Minho walked toward the rear of the car and leaned against it to watching Chan and Hyunjin as they unloaded the trunk.

 

Chan paused in his movements to glance up at Minho, “What?”

 

Minho startled slightly. It seemed the older was no longer ignoring him but now his words carried an unnecessary bite to them. Minho’s mildly surprised expression changed to one of annoyance, “This whole trip is a stupid idea. You guys should be back on campus, practicing. Not at this dumb, gross, sticky, campsite.”

 

With a subtle eye roll, Chan shut the trunk of his car with far more force than necessary. The noise caused them both to flinch, Chan letting out an awkward apology before bending down to pick up the coolers he’d stacked next to the car. When he speaks up again, he’s voice has less bite and he instead sounds more defeated than anything, “We aren’t going through this again. Its tradition and the team could use some bonding time before the season starts.” 

 

“Yeah but camping?” Hyunjin piped up, picking up the tent and slinging it across his back, “That’s so lame, man. Couldn’t we have gone sky diving? I heard you can get like Groupons and shit so it’s cheaper for large groups."

 

Chan glared at Hyunjin, casting a subtle glance in Minho’s direction.

 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, his mouth forming a small circle, “Shit, sorry Minho. ‘Forgot about your fear of heights.”

 

Minho waved a hand dismissively, “Honestly, anything would be better than standing around and becoming mosquito bait,” He slapped at his arms for emphasis.

 

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, “I’d rather be doing suicides right now,” His eyes lit up when he thought of something, mouth puckering like he’d just eaten something sour, “Hell, I’d even rather be facing off against SM right now.”

 

Unaware of Chan’s sharp eyes flickering his way at the mention of the rival hockey team, Minho nodded.

 

Chan scoffed. “Of course _you_ would,” He muttered.

 

Minho’s brows furrowed, “The hell does that mean?”

 

Chan simply shook his head, brushing past Minho and heading down the path toward the campsite. 

 

Minho turned in bewilderment to glance at Hyunjin in confusion. The other boy merely shrugged, clearly just as surprised by the captain’s uncharacteristically sour mood, before taking off in the same direction.

 

Minho huffed. 

 

H e was stuck in the middle of the woods with no one for company but a team of meat-heads (and millions of gross, nasty creatures) and now the leader of the meat-heads was for some unknown reason, pissed at him.

 

If Minho’s mood hadn’t already been sour, it definitely was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed ~
> 
> twitter - [oojinnie](Http://Www.Twitter.com/oojinnie)


End file.
